


The Exorcist(s)

by Crowley_KingOfHell



Series: Constantine Crossovers (aka John tries to have sex with everyone) [3]
Category: Constantine (TV), The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Exorcists, Father Marcus needs to blow off some steam, I wanted this ship so I wrote it myself, John Constantine has no self control around sexy men, M/M, PWP, demons and stuff, fight me, they're both so gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:36:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_KingOfHell/pseuds/Crowley_KingOfHell
Summary: I feel like John Constantine could use someone with more faith, and I think Father Marcus would like to feel like he saved someone.I decided to make this fic exclusively for myself but I hope you enjoy it if you're visiting c:





	1. Chapter 1

Father Marcus Keane cursed the sweat stinging his eyes as he leaned over a writhing woman with a bloated belly. Janus was six months pregnant when her fiancé contacted the priest seeking help for an evil affliction. They're beautiful little cottage sat nestled in a valley several miles southeast of Nashville, Tennessee. Worn wood textures and homemade furniture complimented a simple style to their home, a modest garden in the yard on one side of the house. Remnants of an old barn stood a few acres behind the residence. It would have been a beautiful retreat if not for the restless spirit of a civil war soldier that had bled to death in the barn. He'd taken a hold of Janus the moment they'd moved in, the stress of her pregnancy opening enough of a wound that he could wittle his way in without so much as a tremor. 

When Marcus arrived to investigate the claim by her fiancé, Janus was already very weak. He hadn't had to press hard to get the entity to reveal itself, and the fight began immediately. The beginning of the exorcism had been easy, it seemed like he was making progress. The longer it took however, the more energy the entity seemed to have, and now Father Marcus was failing. His body was exhausted, his spirit was drained, and if he didn't get help soon both the mother and bride to be, and he himself would be doomed. At last Janus' eyes fell shut and her body went limp, giving the priest pause before he closed his book and slipped out of the room quickly. Dialing into his burner cell, he left a message for his friend from the Vatican, Father Devon Bennett. "I've got a pretty dire situation here, Devon. Please give me a call back."

Bennett returned his call moments later, explaining he was trying to avoid being eavesdropped on. Marcus filled him on every painful detail of the possession and failing exorcism. "I really don't know what to say, Marcus. This is beyond anything in familiar with." Bennett shook his head. "Please, Devon, is there _anyone_ you can call?" Marcus pleaded, voice cracking with overuse. Bennett was silent for a full minute before saying, "There _might_ someone. Let me make a few calls." Marcus thanked him and hung up, leaving Bennett to flip a business card over in his hands in solitude. The card read, _John Constantine, Exorcist, Demonologist, Master of the Dark Arts_. He snorted and picked up his phone again. 

*

John Constantine lay face down on his couch in his London flat, far away from the safehouse, from work. He felt his head swimming with the alcohol he'd consumed for breakfast and lunch. A fried sandwich of any kind with some form of starch sounded delicious, but the prospect of getting up to go anywhere was simply out of the question. He wasn't wearing pants, and would not don them again until it was absolutely necessary. Like in three days from now. He reflected on how shitty the week leading up to his time off had been, a false possession, the FBI incident, Chas reopening the 'John you've got to stop smoking' saga. With little sleep and an overflowing scry map, he was up to his eyes in the growing Darkness. All he wanted in this moment was the warm embrace of slumber... But before he could fade into the thrashing waves of drunken sleep his cellphone rang. Loud and shrill, the tune kicked him in the head like a blow from bar fight, "Alright! Keep your hair on..." He grumbled as he dug through his slacks to find his cell, "This is my first holiday in almost twenty years, this better be a bloody emergency!" The voice on the other side hesitated before speaking. "John Constantine? It's Father Devon Bennett, from the Vatican. Do you remember me?"

Hopping around on one foot, tying his shoe and trying not to drop his cigarette from his mouth, Constantine was listening to Bennett give him boarding instructions for his flight. "Thank you again, Constantine. My contact dealing with the exorcism will pick you up. I won't forget this." He said. Constantine straightened his pant legs and slipped on his trench coat, loosening his tie a bit more, "If you want to thank me I wouldn't turn my nose up at a good time." They both laughed, "If I'm to believe the stories I've heard, you might find one while you're working." Bennett chuckled and then hung up. Constantine grinned and grabbed his bag before heading out of his apartment to the elevator, imagining what Bennett's contact looked like with defiant enthuesiasm.

"A prayer of the afflicted, when he is overwhelmed, and poureth out his complaint before the Lord." Marcus read from his Bible as Janus' fiancé carefully injected her with holy water. Her unconscious writhing receded and she stilled completely, "This will keep her out until my back up arrives. What I need you to do head to the airport, with her restraints she'll be safe from herself. Bring them here and we'll get this done. It'll only be a few hours of driving, alright, Gavin?" Marcus had rested a hand on the shaken man's shoulder. He nodded, "I can do that." Clearing his throat, he stood and followed Marcus to the door. Marcus patted his back and the man threw on his jacket before climbing into his truck and speeding off down his dirt driveway.


	2. Chapter 2

Constantine landed in Tennessee after nine hours and a layover, grateful for the glamour charm he'd put on his carry on to disguise his various weapons against evil. He wanted a cigarette so badly he had considered smoking in the plane bathroom but managed to talk himself out of it. Now standing outside waiting for the contact to show up, he lit his first of the day, pondering what car the person would drive, and how close he was to guessing their appearance. At the moment he was hoping for dark haired and curvy but he wouldn't say no to any beauty that rolled up in this cold weather with a warm car. Far be it from the wonderous sports car he'd hoped for, a large, mud covered truck rolled up next to him and he stepped forward as the window rolled down, "John Constantine?" A stout, bearded man asked. "I'm Gavin, I'm Janus' fiancé." He supplied when Constantine only raised an eyebrow. 

The ride back to the house was uncomfortable and quiet. Constantine didn't know how to make small talk with someone whose pregnant bride was dying at the hands of a demon. Instead he shuffled through his bag and decided on what items to make use of. Holy water is an obvious choice, he tucked the small flask of it into his inside pocket, as well as a small notebook of his most successful and powerful exorcism prayers. This notebook held tens of dozens of different rites from various religions collected in person by Constantine himself. A special coin and a wooden cross that was centuries old, these would be his defenses. The drive went faster than he expected. A very light dusting of snow was blanketing the roads and traffic was disappearing fast. The truck pulled down a long and nearly hidden road, leading through a field of freezing flowers, eventually coming to a stop at the front porch of a little house. 

"Father Marcus? We're here!" Gavin called as he opened the front door for Constantine to enter before him. Constantine's brain was processing _Father. Marcus._ still when a tall man with square shoulders appeared at the top of the stairs before them. Blue eyes found brown and Constantine forgot about shaking off the light snow dusting his hair and shoulders and instead stared, slack jawed, at the carefully sculpted arms and cheekbones of the priest. He knew he'd been staring in silence for too long, Gavin had stepped in around Constantine while he struggled to come up with words. "Should we get started?" Gavin spoke up, glancing from one man to the other. Marcus, was staring as well, but was completely oblivious to how long he'd been running his eyes over the face of his new assistant. "Er, yeah. Lead the way." Constantine shook himself, physically and mentally. "Marcus, he said, yeah? I'm John Constantine. I owe your friend one for getting my ass out of jail. Helped him with an exorcism but got myself locked up in the process." He offered a hand as they made it to the upstairs landing. Marcus gave him a firm handshake and a smile, "I can't tell you how glad I am to have some help, but I can't help feeling like I'm getting old, losing my touch. Didn't use to need an extra set of hands, seems like it's gotten harder these days."

Constantine entered the bedroom where Janus was bound and stopped, Gavin and Marcus returning to her bedside. "It's not you getting older, Father. It's them getting stronger." Constantine said with disgust as he watched the woman begin to stir. Legs writhing as the demon resurfaced with all the new activity, it opened it's eyes and addressed the new addition, "Constantine... So desperate to save souls that you're taking on extra jobs?" It sneered, "How many do you have to save? Have they told you?" Constantine grabbed his flask of holy water and sprayed the entity with it, causing it's skin to hiss under the cleansing touch. Marcus glanced at the other exorcist, then back to the writhing woman on the bed. Gavin had turned away and was praying to himself, unable to bear witness to the spiritual warfare being waged inside the mother of his unborn child, he begged God to protect them both. Marcus continued his prayer from before, rosary in one hand, Bible in the other. Constantine listened to the prayer, it was a Rite taken from Scripture, very old school. Under his breath he began his own prayer, forming a cross in the hair with his free hand and addressing the intruder. "I am speaking to the entity possessing this woman, identify yourself!"

An entire day passed and the trio were fading fast. They'd been unsuccessful in obtaining the name of the demon, which Constantine knew would give them the power over it they'd need to expel it. He was on his third cigarette during this quick water break and he was dialing out to Chas, seeking answers. "Look I dug around and all I could come up with is a ritual you can try to just expel the thing involuntarily, like spiritual vomit." He sounded skeptical. "You're gonna need to sell me on it better than that, mate. C'mon at least make me _think_ it'll work!" Constantine pressed his fingers into his eyes. "It _will_ , that's not the concern here, John. My concern is what the hell will you do with it once it's out of her?" Chas had a stern tone. "I dunno, I'll figure that part out next. Send me a text with the instructions." Constantine hung up before he could argue. After a few moments he got what he'd asked for and went about setting it up, drawing his own design of the key of Solomon trap, and carving a point onto the end of that ancient cross of his before bathing it in holy water and saying a prayer in Latin. He was ready to perform the ritual but felt like he owed the fiancé the truth of what was going to happen, and needed Marcus on board in case things hit the fan.

"I'll have to pierce the skin with this, but not in a fatal place, it can be anywhere, leg, hand, foot, wherever won't be a danger to her or the child. Afterword the demon will be expelled and will be trapped by my key of Solomon. You two just get the girl out of the way and I'll take care of the messy part." Constantine explained. Marcus was staring with a blank expression. Gavin just looked sick and nervous, "Anything. I'll do anything. I uh, I guess her hand or foot is fine. Her hand might be better... When she has the baby, I don't want her to have a sore on her foot... You know.. The stirrups and all that for when she has to push." Constantine slapped a hand to his back, "That's the kind of mindset I want you to have, mate. Think ahead, beyond this. You're going to be a father. She's gonna be your wife. So we have to be strong and do this for her alright?" Gavin nodded. Marcus took a deep breath, "We don't have time for me to question you. Let's get to work."


	3. Chapter 3

It was to their misfortune that the demon had retreated inside its victim so it could gather it's strength. The ritual required the entity to be in full control of the body to be effected by the stake cross. Gavin was kneeling by Janus' side, whispering love and encouragement to the expecting woman. Covered in layers of sweat and mucus from vomitting, dried blood around her nose, her entire body shivered with exhaustion and fear. After drinking a few glasses of water she rested her head back on her pillow, trying to be comfortable while her arms and legs were bound. "Father Marcus?" Her failing voice called. Gavin turned and waved him over from his spot in the doorway. "Yes, Janus, I'm here." He stood over Gavin, a hand on his back. Janus tried to speak but sobbed instead, "I j-just," She swallowed to try and steady her voice, "I just want to know my baby will be okay." Tears she thought she'd run out of welled in her eyes again and spilled down her flushed cheeks. 

Marcus knelt next to Gavin and put a hand on her belly. "Your baby will be fine, I promise you that. Not because of us, no. Because of _you_. You're fighting so hard, sweetheart. That wretched thing has its hands full with you, it doesn't have the strength to reach your child beyond your protection. We will finish this and you and Gavin will leave this awful time in the past, do you understand?" Janus gave a small nod and an even smaller smile. "Right now I need you to go against your instincts though. I need you to relax completely and withdraw. Let the demon have the wheel, so we can rid you of it for good." Marcus took one of her bound hands in his and squeezed it gently. Janus nodded again and took several, slow, deep breaths. After a few minutes it almost appeared as though she were asleep. The men waited with baited breath until they heard the twisted sounding voice they'd come to know.

Constantine approached, cross in hand but hidden in his sleeve, speaking low as he prayed. Marcus was reading from his Bible again, and Janus' body started to struggle against the bindings. The voice was groaning as both Constantine and Marcus' prayers grew louder, until it was thrashing on the mattress again, vocalizing horribly. Like a wounded animal, it yowled and cried to be free, and no one acknowledged it. "Constantine..." It tried again for a reaction, which it got none. "You never answered me, how many other saved souls is yours worth? Hm?" Constantine didn't respond but Marcus glanced up at him. "They didn't give you a number, did they? They just asked you to be their dancing monkey until they don't need you anymore." It taunted and cackled madly. Marcus glanced from it to Constantine while repeating his prayer, more curious than the moment called for. Constantine stared into the black eyes of the demon, noting the skin had paled and tinged yellow, as well as the teeth. It was time.

"You're right. They didn't give me a number," Constantine drew neared to the bed, "But when an angel tells me to fight the evil that's destroying the world, it's not a choice, it's a duty." He raised the cross above his head, "And I serve at my own pleasure." With a swift and forceful swing of his arm, the cross buried itself deep into Janus' hand. Her own screams mingled with the demon's as it was ripped out of her body. The room went unnaturally dark, save for the candles Constantine surrounded his trap with. In the center of the key he'd drawn on the floor stood the silhouette of the demon's true self, moving like a sentient pile of snakes slithering over each other to form something human-like. "Now, Marcus!" Constantine bellowed as the house began to creak. Both men started their exorcism prayers with renewed energy while Gavin dressed his now unconscious fiancé's hand. "Your pathetic chanting won't extinguish me!" The poorly harmonized voices cried as the figure bent and twisted against the word of God. The wallpaper began to peel, streams of blood behind each panel slowly pooling onto the floor.

A deafening roar was building from the pressure in the room, Marcus was certain the gravity had increased as he felt his knees buckling. The single window in the room exploded in on them, littering the floor with glistening shards. Constantine continued his prayer but glanced up to see the glass floating off the floor. The pieces twisted and danced in the residual lighting, turning uniform in their direction, which he realized was facing Janus. Marcus was reaching the end of his prayer, voice rising with finality as he prepared to banish the demon back to hell. Constantine knew he was shouting but he could no longer hear himself, and without another visible option, he flung himself in front of Janus and Gavin. The demon disappeared in a cloud of smoke with a horrible shriek and Marcus collapsed to his knees. The pressure returned to normal and the sun's light returned to the bedroom. Marcus heard the scrape of glass on wood and looked down to see the pieces on the floor and under his knees. "I'm sorry for the mess, but thank the Lord it's over with." He panted, turning to smile at Gavin. 

Gavin was staring, mouth gaping, across the bed at Constantine. Marcus followed his gaze and scrambled to his feet at the sight: Constantine was leaning over Janus, head bowed knives of glass protruded from nearly every inch of his back. A red stain blossomed over his trench coat, he wavered where he stood before he slid to the floor as consciousness abandoned him, eyes rolling as they shut. "John!" Marcus and Gavin shouted as they both scrambled to aid the fallen exorcist. Much heavier than he appeared, Gavin and Marcus struggled to pick up Constantine to move him. They rested him on the couch downstairs on his stomach and Marcus set about removing the shards from his back, telling Gavin to care for Janus. Glass shard removal after painstaking glass shard removal, Marcus slowly made progress, finally getting all of the large pieces out of the way. After some consideration and careful movements, he was able to remove the trench coat and collared shirt from his unconscious friend. A bottle of antiseptic, a few boxes of gauze, an entire roll of medical tape and bloody tweezers later, he was finished. Constantine had only needed stitches for one wound, though he looked like he lost a fight with a lawnmower, he would be alright. A heavy sigh and a stomach growl told Marcus he needed to worry about himself next, which he decided he'd do by cooking. No one in this house had eaten in at least a day, they'd earned some real food.


	4. Chapter 4

Constantine woke a few hours after sundown to the smell of cooking tomatoes, sitting up slowly with a pounding in his head matching a beat with the pulsing of his back. The scent wafted into the living room from the kitchen with potency, the bitter scent of tomato mingled with a sharp touch of garlic gave him the impression the food was Italian. Standing cautiously, Constantine looked down at his abdomin, covered in medical wrap and tape, and recollected the evenings events. He supposed things were alright if someone was cooking, he decided as he slipped on a black cotton shirt from his bag. Constantine pulled it on gingerly as he shuffled into the kitchen to see who or what was cooking. Marcus was standing before the stove, back to the doorway as he cooked, a hand towel over his shoulder. Constantine took a moment to appreciate the view before announcing himself, " Looks good." 

Marcus glances over his shoulder, realizing Constantine was awake at last, he set down his utensils and wiped his hands on the towel, "Morning sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?" He smiled, Constantine returned the gesture, "Better now that I'm not leaking all over the floor. Thanks to you I take it?" He nodded at the blood stains on Marcus' shirt and pants. Marcus shrugged, "I've seen worse." Constantine chuckled, "Thanks for your sympathy, Father." Marcus returned to the stove and grabbed a few bowls, "I threw together some spaghetti. Nothing special but it's filling at least." He filled up both dishes before gesturing for Constantine to follow him to the table nearby. "Gavin is upstairs sleeping with Janus, terrified he's gonna lose her while she's resting." Marcus shook his head as he handed Constantine a fork and sat across from him. Constantine loaded up a forkful, "Poor bloke just looked into hell." He said before swallowing down a piping hot but wonderfully tasty pile of noodles and sauce. Constantine cleared his bowl in minutes and chased it with a cup of water. Having cleared his bowl he exhaled deeply and relaxed his posture in his chair, catching a whiff of his body oder, "There wouldn't happen to be a shower I could take advantage of here would there?"

*

Pulling the shower curtain aside Constantine looked at the tiny claw tub and makeshift shower head with a tired smile. This was by no means the worst shower he'd ever seen, he was simply happy to have running water. Marcus was leaning against the door frame, watching Constantine slowly undress to his boxers and test the water, grimacing from the pain of movement. "You're going to need to be careful not to soak your dressings." Marcus said from his point of observation. Constantine looked quizzically at him, "How the bloody hell am I supposed to not get them wet if I get a shower?" Marcus furrowed his brow for a moment, "I've taken care of wounded people in need before. It would probably be better if you took a sponge bath." He reasoned with a small shrug. Constantine glared irritably at him, as he pushed the rubber stopper into the drain and let the tub start filling. "Really making me work for it, aren't you." He grumbled. Marcus chuckled, "If you're that helpless then I can do it for you." Initially he only intended it as a taunt, but when Constantine whipped his gaze to Marcus with a sinister glint in his eye, he choked for a brief moment. "I won't say no if you're offering, love." 

Struck dumb by the shameless smirk on Constantine's face, Marcus tried to laugh, but felt his throat constrict. "Alright, you overgrown child." He decided to rise to the challenge in hopes of forcing Constantine to admit his bluff. Unfortunately that was not at all what happened. Instead, Constantine straightened his back, dropped his boxers and settled into the tub, water only barely covering his lap to leave his back dry. Steam was escaping the bathroom through the open door in thin whisps, the mirror already fogged over above the sink. Marcus cleared his throat and pushed himself off the door frame, gently kicking the door shut behind him. He came to the side of the tub and knelt into the soft rug infront of it, reaching past Constantine to grab a sponge and soap. "If I'm going to bathe you then you should tell me a story." Marcus said, desperate to fill the heavy silence. Constantine twisted his mouth in thought before nodding, "Alright."

His voice was warm and comfortable to listen to while Marcus carefully scrubbed the skin around his wounds, trying to keep his mind from wandering where he tells himself it shouldn't. The methodical movements and low hum of Constantine's tones were nearly hypnotizing, coupled with the minty scent of the body wash and warm environment. He dipped the sponge in the soapy water and moved from Constantine's neck and shoulders to his arms. Constantine laughed at something he said and continued his story. Marcus moved to his feet and ankles, working his way up the man's legs. There was a weighted pause between the men when Marcus reached Constantine's upper thighs. He skipped from the thighs to Constantine's hair and massages shampoo into it, watching the foam turn pink from the blood spattered on his neck. "What do you think, then?" Constantine asked, breaking the silence, as Marcus rinsed the suds from the blond mop before him. He realized he hadn't heard a word that was said since he started and swallowed. Constantine hesitated and turned to face Marcus, who was flushed at the neck. There was another moment of complete silence between them and Constantine felt heat rise in his stomach. He slipped a hand up to cup Marcus' face just as the priest leaned in. Their lips met in a fleeting moment of bravery and Constantine let himself be pulled closer for a deeper kiss, opening his mouth for Marcus' tongue to enter.

Somehow Constantine ended up on his feet, stepping out of the tub and dripping all over the rug and surrounding floor. His hands were liberating Marcus of his shirt and then belt in few seconds, black jeans dropping with a _thunk_ to the floor. Marcus was down to boxers and socks, which he stripped quickly, in less than a minute. Constantine barely had time to appreciate Marcus' wonderfully sculpted form before he was scooped up by the priest's powerful arms and pinned against the wall causing him to grimace, the stores on his back stinging angrily. His mouth was captured in a wonderfully distracting kiss as Marcus slid himself slowly against Constantine's bare ass. Constantine groaned into Marcus' mouth as he squirmed in anticipation, his own quickly stiffening erection already painfully hard. "Come on now, Father," Constantine breathed, "Don't make me beg." Marcus inhaled sharply and thrust himself in without further coaxing. "Ugh, _fucking Christ_." He gasped as he felt the head of Marcus' pulsing dick brush against his prostate. "Taking the Lord's name in vain is a sin." Marcus hissed into the ear he'd been nibbling on, and thrust once more, harder. 

"Mm, so I get more when I misbehave? That's not sending the right messages, Father." Constantine snickered wickedly as Marcus shuddered with each thrust in. "If it's retribution you seek, I can offer it." Marcus rasped between heavy breaths as he set a rhythm, and Constantine wrapped his arms around Marcus' neck, bracing himself. He let the overwhelming sensation of Marcus' almost painfully thick cock as it repeatedly hit his sweet spot drown him in desire. "Oh, fuck, Marcus - I'm already close." Constantine moaned. Marcus swallowed the moan with a kiss full of fervor, panting through his nose and groaning as he felt his knees quake. He leaned his weight against Constantine, bracing them against the wall, as they orgasmed in tandem. A few moments passed,both men trying to catch their shortened breath, before Marcus withdrew himself. Constantine found his footing, legs weak and nearly numb. Marcus leaned back against the vanity for support while he tried to steady his heavy breathing, glancing up at Constantine who was gripping his abs. Constantine started laughing, much to Marcus' confusion. He wrapped his arms around Marcus' waist, condensation and sweat dripping from them onto the tile of the bathroom floor. Constantine pressed a kiss to the mouth of the priest, trying to stifle a bout of laughter. "What do you say to a first date, now that we've been properly introduced." he chuckled.


	5. Chapter 5

After dressing in his usual get up again, and contacting a mid-wife and long friend of Father Marcus to come help Gavin, Constantine coerced Marcus into letting him buy them both dinner. Marcus' still growling stomach giving him away, he agreed to grabbing some bar food and beers with Constantine after they'd said their goodbyes. They loaded up Marcus' truck and headed into town, finding a dive bar with a bustle of people chatting amongst themselves and watching sports games on wall tv's. They found a couple of open stools at the bar and flagged down the bartender, "Two of your unhealthiest sandwiches and a pitcher, please, mate." Constantine clapped a bill into the gentleman's hand the man nodded with a smile. Lighting a cigarette, Constantine turned on his stool to look at Marcus. The lines on his face spoke to the hardships he has endured, piercing blue eyes that were stern and yet gentle, and his welcoming smile. Constantine's cigarette was about to ash on him, completely unaware of how long he'd been staring yet again, had an uncharacteristicly content look on his face. Chas would have tried to exorcise him.

Marcus was biting back his laugh behind an enormous smile while he waited for Constantine to circle back to conscious thought. The goofy smile on his face was priceless, and Marcus had the nagging feeling the creases on Constantine's face weren't laugh lines. This was likely a rare moment for him. Their pitcher and glasses came before Constantine said anything, he blinked and looked at the floor, laughing at himself, "Sorry, love. Guess I'm a little star struck. Very unfamiliar feeling, lemme tell you." He admitted, ashing his cigarette at last. Marcus couldn't help but smile more, filling both glasses with foaming beer, "That's very flattering, which is an unfamiliar feeling to me as well." He slipped his glass, Constantine did the same, "Sounds like we both had a terrible upbringing." He snorted. Marcus gave a small shrug and half smile as he nursed his beer. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" Constantine said with a meaningful look. "Fair enough." Marcus agreed as their food came out on sizzling trays.

"I damned myself to eternal hell fire that day. Still trying to sort out of I can buy my way back in or not." Constantine said between bites of his sandwich and sips of beer. Marcus shook his head, "We seem to be part of a rare few called to this work by God in the most inhumane ways imaginable." He said, picking over his leftovers. "Care to go on?" Constantine asked, finishing his food and wiping his hands. "My father was a very cruel, disturbed man. My mother wasn't strong enough to runaway... or fight back, when he started beating her head so violently her brains were splattering the floor." Constantine grabbed Marcus' bicep and caught his gaze, "You survived that. Now lookit you, saving a young mother and her child. You should be proud." His voice was perfectly steady but his heart was aching, hearing his own father's words echo in his head.

Marcus stared at Constantine's eyes. They were such intense eyes, with a powerful honesty to them anyone could find trust in. "Thank you, John. That's very kind of you," Marcus smiled at him. "Perhaps not the best circumstances to meet under, but I'm glad to have met you nonetheless." Constantine leaned back to pour them each another round. Marcus raised his glass appreciatively. After finishing the second round in comfortable silence, Constantine looked sideways at Marcus, "I think you should come back to my place for another drink." He said with a very serious tone. Marcus raised his eyebrows, "You do, do you? Why is that?" He leaned against the bar counter and rested his face on his fist. "Because you're a priest, and after our little, erm... adventure, in the bathroom, I don't think you should be alone. You're vulnerable to being overcome with guilt." Constantine sounded very confident. Marcus sighed, "Not actually a priest anymore, John. I was excommunicated." He didn't meet Constantine's gaze this time. Constantine slipped from his stool to stand, leaning his hips between Marcus' open knees, wrapping an arm around his waist and saying, "Well, in that case, come get drunk and makeout with me in a shitty hotel." Marcus' eyes betrayed him as they jumped from the floor, to Constantine's eyes and then his lips.

The couple fumbled with the door handle and almost fell into the room as they kissed and tripped over each other. Catching their balance, they walked together, Marcus moving backwards 'til his legs hit the side of the bed and he fell. Constantine smirked down at him, face flushed and smiling. Marcus leaned up and wrapped Constantine's tie around his fist, pulling him down for a kiss, and then on top of himself. He laughed into the kiss as he tore off his trench and brought his hands back to cup either side of Marcus' face. Thumb brushing over the stubble on his cheek, Marcus closed his eyes and smiled, he'd spent so much time trying to fight it, to be pure and holy to do the work of God, but he needed this more than hed realized. He opened his eyes again to find Constantine watching his expression, with concern that he hadn't received in many years. Marcus brought his lips to Constantine's again, feeling his eyes sting. He was overwhelmed with happiness, which he had nearly convinced himself he couldn't have.

Constantine knew what Marcus was feeling. He could see the emotions as they changed Marcus' expression, even though it was subtle. He was struggling to accept his desires because of how he'd been raised in the Church. Constantine briefly wondered if Manny could offer any peace of mind to this weary warrior for the Lord. Constantine didn't want to let Marcus slide into the feelings of guilt he knew the man would have, so he decided to just keep kissing him. He trailed kisses from Marcus' mouth down his neck, sliding his shirt up and kissing his stomach and chest. Slowly they shed layers of clothing until eventually they wore only in underwear. Constantine slowly drifted off to sleep with a private prayer in his heart, curled up against Marcus' chest. He himself was relaxing his way into slumber, threading his fingers through the blond locks of his lover. He faded into a deep rest he hadn't had since his time working for the church.

Constantine woke to his the sound of his cell ringing in his pants pocket on the floor next to the bed. He rubbed one temple with the hand that wasn't fishing for the phone until he answered, "John it's Chas, where the hell ya been? I haven't heard from you since you called about the possession, how'd it go? Is it over? Did you save her? " Chas started off quickly. Constantine groaned, "It's over, she's fine," He grabbed his lighter and lit a half smoked cigarette, "we set them up with a mid wife to help look after Janus." Marcus was stirring next to him, stretching. He wrapped an arm around his waist, "Is that your boyfriend, darling?" Marcus said quietly with a playful grin, kissing Constantine on the shoulder. He rolled his eyes with a laugh, Chas asked from the other side of the phone, "Who - oh. John you could have just told me you were with someone." He sounded annoyed, Constantine laughed, "Yes, dad, I'm sorry for missing curfew." Chas sighed, "Just keep in touch okay?"

"I'll be back in a few days, I'll call you then." Constantine hung up and rolled to face Marcus, "How about trip to my flat in London?" Marcus' grin dropped, "Wait, you're serious?" Constantine was already pulling on his pants and pulling his shirt right side out, "Yep, c'mon. Bet we can get an early flight still."


End file.
